Come Softly into the Night
by Making Marla
Summary: WIP. Bethany Camden is a salesgirl moonlighting as a Night World hunter. Simon Lovell is a teenage outcast trying to survive high school. When their lives collide, both discover that they are more entangled in Night World than they ever thought possible.
1. Merry Meet and Merry Meet Again

**Come Softly into the Night**

Chapter 1: Merry Meet and Merry Meet Again

Midnight Illusion was a new-age ruse; everybody knew it.

It was a popular place for unpopular youth because it was open late and its kitschy quality kept away the high school and college elite. The shop also had a reputation for an easygoing staff that allowed people to loiter in the faux-velvet loveseats and wooden in the alcoves that were hidden among the bookshelves.

But even Midnight Illusion's most valued customers made fun of it, dubbing it "Mid-Ill" to save from having to say the whole cheesy name out loud.

The so-called magic shop hosted strings of beads to part doorways, tapered black candles, and untidy bookshelves overflowing with astrological paperbacks. The thick smell of incense wafted throughout the considerably large store.

The beads at the store's entrance clicked together as a group of teenagers entered. They all wore an overabundance of black, with hair long and dirty. Even though Halloween was in a few weeks, the store was mostly empty: it was a school night, therefore a slow night.

While most of the group dispersed throughout the shop, browsing through books and picking up pewter figurines of fairies, one boy made his way over to the bored salesgirl who sat on a tall stool behind the check out counter, glancing over his shoulder at his friends as he did so.

Idly, she flipped through a magazine that sported some sort of Celtic cross on the cover. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes: teenagers.

"Hey," he boy said, looking uncomfortable as he leaned against the counter. His eyebrows were fair, the left pierced with a barbell. His hair was a faded black; blond roots were showing. When he spoke, another metal piercing gleamed on his tongue.

The salesgirl was unmoved. "Can I help you?" she asked in a perfunctory manner, barely glancing up.

"Did you do a love spell?"

The salesgirl looked torn between confusion and irritation. She settled for frowning. "…Excuse me?"

His flush was dark against his pale skin as he hurriedly finished, "Because it worked on me."

Again, the pierced boy's eyes flickered toward his friends who were snickering in the background. One girl who wore thick-soled boots that looked odd on her slight body made a moue and crossed her arms over her diminutive chest. Her hair was blond but shot though with red and black and could possibly be considered pretty if she weren't wearing so much eye makeup.

"Listen, buddy," the salesgirl began, stamping out the indignation that she felt bubbling under her cheeks. It was not a blush. She did not blush, and certainly not over a teenage punk in a perpetual awkward stage. "It's almost closing, and if you and your friends aren't going to buy anything—"

"Sorry," the boy interjected, still quite red. "It was a dare. My friends have a twisted sense of humor." He fidgeted under the salesgirl's hard look. "I'm Simon," he introduced himself, ducking his head shyly.

Simon offered a hand; his fingers were long and slim, bedecked with two silver rings.

The salesgirl studied his hand for a moment. Just as Simon was about to pull back his hand and stuff it in his pocket in embarrassment, she took it. "Bethany Camden. If you don't pull that shit again I'll be happy to help you," she announced, her handshake firm.

Half an hour later, with the group having spent a total of $41.23, Bethany ushered the teens out. When the last one was out the door, she locked up the store and turned off the lights.

In the employees lounge in the back room, there was a staircase that headed up to the loft above the magic shop, which Bethany headed up taking two stairs at a time.

A boy with rich brown hair and a smattering of freckles lay sleeping on the couch in the middle of the room; he was so tall that most of his legs were actually hanging off the couch's armrest. A trickle of drool slid down the corner of his mouth.

Bethany kicked the couch hard. "Get up Russ, it's almost midnight."

Russell James awoke with a start, body shifting into a fighting stance almost instantaneously. A long silver knife materialized in his hand; it looked surprisingly like one of the shop's chintzy "ceremonial knives", but the way Russ handled it made it seem less like a joke. He looked about ready to hurl it at someone; when he spotted Bethany, that look didn't change significantly.

With a groan, he threw himself back onto the couch, knife disappearing somewhere in his sleeve. "Jesus Bethy, I had a twelve hour shift today,"

Bethany poked at him with the blunt end of what looked to be a wooden stake. "It's Bethany. And I just got hit on by some kid because I was the one who took over your shift after you whined about it, even though you owe Jon the entire day after what you did. Remember?"

"So what, this is payback?" Russ demanded, voice muffled. His head was buried in a throw pillow.

"No, it's hunting," Bethany said, rolling her eyes. "Now get up."

Midnight Illusion was a teenage Goth trap; everybody knew it. That's why it was the perfect cover.

* * *

Midnight was a special time for monsters and hunters alike. For the Night World, it had some mystical significance that Bethany was altogether skeptical about. Whatever the reason, the monsters came out to play in their blatant little flower clubs at midnight, and that meant prime hunting for her and Russ. 

Currently, they were at the old part of town, where the buildings stood in magnificent deterioration. They took Russ' motorcycle, which they parked on a street adjacent to a very specific alley. The whole neighborhood was riddled with graffiti, but the only part of the wall art that mattered to Bethany was the sketch of a rose done in black spray paint.

A vampire club.

Bethany patted her weapons to assure her of their presence.

Luckily, the strict rules for the clubs worked just as well for the hunters as it did for the club's secrecy. All the monsters were required to park at least a block away from the club, so that all a hunter had to do was sit and wait.

The waiting was the hard part.

Russ was looking impatient and eager, all traces of sleepiness having left him at the tangible prospect of a good kill. For Bethany, the hunt had the double benefit of blowing off steam and getting rid of the monsters at the same time.

For Russ it meant something more personal, more primal. Sometimes, his eyes glittered feverishly in those moments just before the kill. Bethany never asked why.

When they saw the couple leaving the alley and walking to a mid-sized sedan, Bethany had to grip Russ' arm hard to keep him from gassing up right away. Bethany realized with a start that it was that little prick Simon and the girl with the boots. When she shook his hand earlier, she hadn't noticed any visible flower. She never really understood the black flower system that the Night World used to identify each other, but she didn't question things that made the monsters easier to spot.

Just as Russ pulled up next to the couple and Bethany got ready to pounce, the couple seemed to have a romantic moment: the girl with the tri-colored hair pulled Simon close, and gazed into his eyes. She then buried her head in the crook of his neck.

Simon's eyelids fluttered down.

He was already screaming by the time Russ and Bethany attacked.

* * *

Angelica hooked her arm in his before he could protest. 

Really, he just wanted to go home after that incident at Mid-Ill. Simon Lovell decided right then and there that he was never going to accept a dare again. Being embarrassed in front of the pretty twenty-something salesgirl had been fun for just about everyone but him.

"Where are we going?" he asked Angelica when he realized they weren't heading in the direction of his parents' apartment. David, the only one who had a care besides Angelica, was probably already halfway to Sera and Aiden's house, leaving him quite alone with a girl who Sera insisted had a crush on him.

Simon took a furtive sideways glance at her, and quickly averted his eyes when he saw that she was already looking at him.

"There's this great club that I've been meaning to show you," Angelica said with a secretive smile.

Pale eyebrows shot up in surprise. Angelica Hart was the type of girl who liked to pretend that she was disaffected about everything. The club would have to be something special to get that kind of response.

"Yeah? What's it called?"

"I'll tell you when we get there," she said confidently.

As Angelica's Chevy passed through the progressively older neighborhoods, Simon ticked through a list of things to talk about. It wasn't so much that he disliked the silence, but that he felt it was expected of him to fill it.

"How's the music at this mystery club?" Simon asked, reaching over to fiddle with the air conditioning. His arm brushed against hers.

Angelica considered the question. "Better than most, but nothing great," she admitted. "Think experimental techno and possibly some ambient rock."

He nodded, but wondered: if the music was just OK, than what made the club so great?

"We're here," Angelica announced as she pulled up next to the sidewalk. Simon looked around: there was nothing but old buildings. The corpse of an old Camaro sat in a pathetic heap at the curb; a couple in an apartment above them was having a loud fight.

"Right. Where's 'here'?"

When they got out of the car, she slipped her hand into his and answered, "The Black Rose."

They walked for a good block before they got to the actual club. Simon's hand was beginning to feel uncomfortably damp by the time they walked up to the alley-side entrance. The door was unmarked except for a black rose that was spray painted above it. Simon felt his lips quirk at how excited Angelica seemed to be at the symbol.

"It's kind of an underground club; no one's supposed to know about it," Angelica explained.

She rapped on the door sharply, and received a growl of, "What?" for her trouble. An eye level slot opened and a pair of amber eyes stared out at them.

With an unimpressed toss of her hair, Angelica simply met those amber eyes. For a second, Simon actually thought he saw her gray eyes actually flash silver. He blinked to clear his vision.

The door opened and Angelica led the way, tugging him along behind her.

Immediately, they were assaulted with the droning music that was blasting through the club. Before Simon could get a good look at his surroundings, Angelica steered him to the bar, even though they were both about four years short of being able to buy alcohol.

Amazingly, when she met the bartender's eyes and ordered two beers, the bartender complied.

"How did you do that?" Simon wanted to know, taking a small swig.

Angelica looked pleased with herself. "A friend of my older brother owns the club."

"Nice guy," he commented.

"He's not so bad," Angelica said with an indifferent shrug. "I just hope my brother doesn't find out. He can be a little—"

"Angie, what the hell do you think you're doing here on a school night?" a voice demanded loudly. The person that followed the voice was a tall blond guy. He was impeccably dressed in a dark blue button down shirt and dark slacks.

"—Protective." Angelica finished with a wince. She twisted a piece of blond-and-black hair nervously. "Hi Basil," she greeted, her tone long-suffering.

Basil apparently noticed the beer right then. "Who the fuck gave you that? Where's the bartender? I'll kick his ass—who the hell gives a seventeen-year-old beer? Did he even card you?"

Instead of answering, Angelica grabbed Basil's arm and dragged him several feet away from the bar. Simon sympathized with him; Angelica was none-too-gentle when she was directing someone.

It appeared that, Simon was now the issue of the argument because Basil wasn't even bothering to hide his gesturing.

Angelica spoke to her brother in fierce, low tones. Simon thought he heard Basil say the word "vermin". Simon felt his face heat. His black clothing and piercings usually earned him some pretty nasty words, but "vermin" was new.

"—Doesn't matter—mine—turn tonight—"

As they began speaking in lower tones, Simon finally decided to give up eavesdropping in favor of studying the club. Pool tables were set up at the far corner. An astounding amount of good-looking people writhed on the dance floor on the opposite side of the room. Trance music pulsed loudly throughout the room.

It was really not his scene.

He didn't want to offend Angelica, but he was ready to get the hell out of there. The girl who slid in the barstool next to him flashed a smile with too-sharp teeth. The bartender, who apparently decided it was safe to show his face, was giving him odd, intense looks. He knew he was underage, but the amount of scrutiny he was under was ridiculous.

Just as the girl sitting next to him leaned over to say something to him, Angelica was by his side, whisking him away. "Let's get out of here," she whispered, her breath warm against his ear.

Simon let himself be led out.

When they exited the club, the night seemed particularly still in comparison. They were almost to Angelica's car when she turned to him and looked him in the eye.

For a moment, Simon became caught up in those twin points of silver as the rest of the world faded into the background. Angelica suggested something, and Simon nodded absently, closing his eyes as she pulled him into an embrace.

That was when the pain began.

A sharp prick at the junction where his neck and shoulder met ripped a startled yell out of him just as a large body tackled him to the ground. His head hit the pavement and for a moment the world went black.

When he opened his eyes a minute later, he saw two people wearing motorcycle helmets and dark clothing. They stood over Angelica's crumpled body, which had something wooden sticking out from her chest.

"Oh God," The words were torn from his mouth before he could stop them.

The two figures turned toward him. The first was ridiculously tall and well over six feet. The second was about a foot shorter and slim in comparison. Both were holding similar wooden weapons in their hands.

When the slimmer figure took off the dark helmet, pale brown hair tumbled out to the shoulders of his rescuer. Simon's eyes widened. It was the same salesgirl that told him off not two hours ago.

Before he fainted, Simon's last thought was that he was going to die by the hands of a girl who sold unicorn posters for a living.

* * *

Russ looked at the boy on the couch nervously. "We should have just left him," he said as if Bethany hadn't already figured that out. 

It was a bitch to get the unconscious boy back to Midnight Illusion on that stupid motorcycle.

"He was just bitten by a vamp. Not to mention that he could have a concussion." The answers were reasonable, but Bethany was more concerned about the fact that he might have seen her face. How stupid could she possibly get?

"When Jon gets home—"

"He'll agree with me," Bethany said. I hope, she added silently.

The boy moaned just then, clutching his head. "Angelica?" He looked disoriented and confused as he gazed upon the loft. When he realized whom he was in the room with, his eyes widened in fear.

Bethany exchanged a disbelieving glace with Russ. They just saved him from a vampire and he was afraid of _them_?

"OK, buddy—" Bethany began.

"It's Simon," he interrupted. He seemed afraid but had a determined set in his jaw.

She rolled her eyes. "I don't care if your name is Boy Howdy. We saved you, bandaged you up, and now we need to know that you aren't going to be telling your little friends about us."

"Saved me?" he squeaked. "You—you killed Angelica!"

Russ looked confused. "Who?"

Simon's jaw dropped. "The girl I was with that you stabbed with a piece of wood!" he exclaimed, voice rising hysterically.

"Whoa, you mean the vampire?" Russ asked, obviously not catching on to Simon's irrational state.

The boy on the couch seemed to collapse into himself right then. He closed his eyes and pressed the palms of his hands over his ears, rocking back and forth. Bethany thought she heard him mutter, "This is not happening, this is not happening,"

Huffing in annoyance, Bethany strode up to him and slapped his hands away from his ears. "All right, buddy—Simon—whatever, this is not just some fucked up dream. It's not going away tomorrow morning. So listen up because a lot of lives are at stake."

Simon looked as if he was going to protest, but Bethany held up her hand imperiously. "They call it the Night World…"

* * *

"So you're telling me that one of my best friends was a vampire who tried to feed off of me and belonged to a secret society that is made up of not only vampires but witches and shapeshifters, too?" Simon asked slowly. He valiantly attempted to keep his voice from cracking. 

"Pretty much," the big guy called Russ said in a much too cheerful voice.

Simon took a deep breath to keep from laughing hysterically; this was like some B horror movie. Maybe if he just played along…?

"OK. I won't tell anyone that your magic shop is just a cover for you and your roommates fight with evil."

Bethany gave him an irritated look. "I know it's hard to swallow, but you have to realize that your so-called friend has probably been feeding off you regularly. She's been using you as _food_."

He shook his head in denial. "No. Sera told me that Angelica had a crush on me. I—she liked me," he said, standing up. "This is crazy. I'm going home,"

Russ stood in the doorway, blocking it quite effectively while Bethany pulled him in front of vanity mirror on the wall near the entrance.

"Look," she said, pushing away the hair that brushed the nape of his neck.

Cautiously, Simon looked. On his neck, there was what looked like two neat puncture wounds, already mostly healed.

Simon swallowed, mouth suddenly dry. His head injury must have been worse than he thought because he was starting to believe them.

_...to be continued in Chapter 2: A Nighttime Trade_

**Author's Note**: Thanks for reading! If you liked/disliked anything you've just read, please feel free to leave a review. I don't have a beta reader at the moment, so if you've noticed any typos or anything like that I'd love it if you could tell me.


	2. A Nighttime Trade

**Come Softly into the Night**

Chapter 2: A Nighttime Trade

Simon awoke on a sofa not his own. The ceiling above was a pale cream, lightened from the sun, which peeked through high windows. The wallpaper was diamond-pattered and cheery in pale greens. Well, it wasn't David's dingy one-bedroom apartment, and it certainly wasn't Aiden and Sera's posh three-story home. Blearily, he rubbed at his eyes with a swipe of his fists and raised his wrist to his face. His watch read half past seven.

His arm dropped bonelessly across his eyes. School was in half an hour. He lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling above.

"Russ, you open in half an hour! Get your ass up—I'm heading to class in _one_ minute!" shouted a vaguely familiar voice. The yell was accompanied by a loud pounding of a door.

Simon sat up abruptly, blood rushing out of his head. His head felt fuzzy for one blissful moment, but when the fog cleared, the events of the previous night became painfully sharp: Angelica, smiling mysteriously. The dark alley that led to the Black Rose. That salesgirl who was currently still banging on someone's door, brandishing a wooden stake instead of an impatient fist.

Russ, the someone in question, jerked open his door roughly. He was wearing a pair of pale blue boxer shorts, a thin white t-shirt, and a scowl on his face. "I'm up, I'm up. Who the hell got engaged and made you boss?"

Bethany rolled her eyes, walking to the small kitchen across the room. She had a book bag slung over her shoulder, and shoes already slipped onto her feet. "When Jon gets back from his little getaway vacation he'll kick your ass if he finds out you haven't been listening to me," she warned as she poured herself a glass of orange juice.

"Like I ever listen to you," Russ replied easily, following her into the kitchen. He swiped her orange juice and took a swig; it came out of his mouth just as quickly when Bethany elbowed him in the stomach.

Both didn't appear to remember Simon, who he sat on the couch uncomfortably. On his lap, his hands didn't know what to do; they fidgeted, fingers twitching. The two weren't acting like he expected them to—where were the crazy supernatural theories? The paranoia? When he scanned the apartment, there was a distinct lack of weird wooden and silver weapons. Simon felt a flush creep over his face. Did someone slip something into his drink? Was last night just some acid trip dream?

His throat felt tight and a tingling feeling of panic spread throughout his chest. What was wrong with him?

"Hey Bud, you want some OJ?" Russ asked from the kitchen, as Bethany headed out the door.

The younger boy realized that he was being addressed. "Er, actually it's Simon," he corrected, stuttering slightly. "And no thank you."

Russ laughed, running a large hand through his dark hair. "Yeah, I remember. Man were you out of it," he said, pouring a glass for himself. "I'm Russ, by the way. We didn't exactly have a chance to make introductions last night,"

"About last night…" Simon began hesitantly. How to bring up the vampires? Simon was drawing a blank.

The brunette looked up, both eyebrows raised questioningly. "What about it?" he asked.

Simon opened his mouth again and then closed it decisively. He shook his head. "Nevermind. It doesn't matter,"

With a puzzled shrug, Russ headed toward his room to get dressed, not closing the door behind him.

"I'm going to head out now," Simon called, already inching toward the apartment's exit. "I've got school soon—"

"I can give you a ride if you like," Russ interrupted, voice muffled from what was probably a t-shirt.

"Uh, sure. That'd be great," Simon said, feeling a little disoriented. He supposed that the previous night really had been some weird, possibly drug-induced hallucination.

On their way out the door, Russ put his hand on Simon's shoulder. "By the way," he said casually, "Try not to mention the whole Night World thing to anyone. It's kind of just an after hours gig, if you know what I mean."

* * *

Two black-clad figures were draped over the sandstone steps of J. Edwards High, idle and unconcerned. They looked out of place sitting there in shredded jeans and silver studs with the sunlight hazy overhead, yet there was something about the two that made other students glance at them. Some glanced down at them disdainfully as they passed by, others with a hint of longing. 

All went unnoticed by David Rollins in favor of the small contraption in his hand.

A cigarette dangled from his mouth, right next to the tiny hoop that pierced the corner of his bottom lip. From an outsider's point of view, he looked very natural in all his casual rebellion.

If only the damn lighter would work.

For the past minute, he had been shaking the damn thing with affected flippancy to stir any vestiges of lighter fluid left in the blue plastic. With a muttered curse, he flicked the lighter desperately. It gave off a pitiful spark in return.

A cupped hand, freckled and large, appeared under his cigarette. Within that hand, a ball of flame the size of a golf ball smoldered, orange and mesmerizing.

Without even blinking in surprise, David leaned forward to light the cigarette, inhaling deeply. Ah, nicotine. "You know," he said conversationally, after blowing out a dramatic ribbon of smoke. "Sera would kill you if she saw you do that right out in public."

Aiden Grimshaw snorted in response as he rummaged through David's book bag. After a moment, he triumphantly pulled out the carton of cigarettes and stole one for himself. As Aiden lit the cigarette, a tall girl with silvery blond curls pinned up with a black dahlia eyed him speculatively as she passed by. David smirked at Aiden, who deliberately ignored them both. He settled his long, lean form in an impossibly lazy position, which David was positive that only shapeshifters should be able to pull off.

As a werewolf, David thought himself quite the authority on that.

"So where is Sera?" David asked, curious.

"I've got a better question for you," Aiden said drolly. "Where's Angelica and Simon?"

David's golden-red eyebrows shot up into a fringe of black-tipped hair. "What do you know about it?" he asked, trying not to sound too eager. "I know Angelica has some weird fixation with him, but I thought Sera told her to knock it off,"

Without answering him, Aiden casually took a drag of his cigarette. After what felt like a ridiculously long pause, David squirmed with impatience. Aiden raised an eyebrow in return. "Angelica told Sera that she thought Simon was her soulmate," he said, with a slight sneer at the word "soulmate".

"Really?" David could feel his eyes widen in surprise. "I didn't know Angelica believed in that crap." He was silent for a full ten seconds before he had to ask, "You think they did it?"

With a carefully blank expression, Aiden replied, "I called Simon's house this morning. His mom thought he was over at your place." His lips held the beginning of a leer.

David crowed with laughter. "That dog!" he said, shaking his head.

"You of all people shouldn't be calling people canine," came a teasing voice from above him.

Tilting his head up, David met with the upside-down face of Sera Grimshaw, who was smiling in that quiet way of hers. She stood above him, her long dark hair almost reaching David's nose.

"So who's the dog?" she asked, sitting beside David. Absently, she made a face at the cigarette still suspended from his fingertips, and with a deft hand, snatched it from him to stub it out on the steps.

Aiden, that sneaky bastard, had already surreptitiously crushed his own cigarette butt beneath his large black boots; he had piece of gum popped in his mouth. "Simon," came Aiden's contribution.

"The pimp didn't go home last night according to the lovely Mrs. Lovell. Since he obviously wasn't with any of us…" David trailed off, waggling his eyebrows comically.

Sera gave him a playful push, but her expression was worried. "Angelica told me that she was going to take him to the Black Rose," she admitted. "What if something went wrong?"

Aiden scowled. "She took Simon to the Black Rose? Those assholes don't care if what they're biting is human or not," he said darkly. David shifted his eyes away uncomfortably when he caught Aiden surreptitiously rubbing his left wrist.

The dark-haired girl gave her brother a disapproving frown; her freckled nose scrunched up in annoyance. "Angelica's brother is a co-owner of the Black Rose," she reminded him.

"Angelica's brother is an asshole," he said, not sounding apologetic at all.

"Guys, you're worrying about nothing," David interrupted. "They probably just shacked up somewhere for the night,"

He received a grateful look from Sera at his light-hearted comment. "You make it sound like Angelica's easy," Sera admonished him with a faint smile twitching at the corner of her lips.

"Well, she's certainly not difficult," said David with a grin. Suddenly, his grin widened. "Well, speaking of the little pimp," he said, pointing to the familiar figure hopping off the back of an unfamiliar black motorcycle.

Simon was a slight boy, who carried himself unsurely. He walked over to the group with his head bowed down, his bottle-black hair obscuring his face, blond roots reflecting brightly in the sun. In David's opinion, he just needed to lighten up a bit.

"Simon!" David yelled, with unneeded volume. Simon's head snapped up in surprise, and his cheeks reddened visibly. David ignored the other stares he garnered.

"Hey," Simon said softly as he came up to the steps.

"So Simon, my man, have you seen Angelica lately?" David asked suggestively.

The other boy had an odd look on his face. David saw that Sera was giving Simon that patented concerned look. Aiden had simply nodded once in greeting, and returned back to his lazy perusal of their classmates below.

David rolled his eyes. Witches.

That was when the bell rang, sharp and sudden. Hordes of students collected their book bags and binders and headed up the stairs and past the group until the courtyard below was cleared out.

"I'm out of here," Aiden said, when the group was left alone on the sandstone steps. Brushing off Sera's protests, he made his way to the parking lot.

Watching her brother's retreating back with a frown, Sera turned to the remaining boys. "I'll see you guys at lunch," she said. Then she gave David a hard look. "You aren't cutting today, are you?" she didn't so much as ask, as tell him that he'd better not.

"Yeah, yeah," David confirmed with a humoring smile. Before they parted ways, he tugged gently on a piece of her dark hair and said, "I'll be there,"

Sera gave him a small, pleased smile. David found himself returning a genuine smile of his own.

Just another day at J. Edwards High.

* * *

"So how was last night, man?" was the first question David asked, as they walked alone through the empty, sterile hallways. Simon gave him a sideways glance. The other boy wore a black shirt with some black design etched on it and jeans shredded so badly that his blue plaid boxer shorts showed through. He slunk through the hallways with hunched shoulders and his hands stuffed in his pockets. He looked completely comfortable, completely normal. 

Simon forcibly stopped himself from fidgeting nervously with his hair. "What do you mean?" he asked, trying to keep the wariness out of his voice.

"You know, after Mid-Ill. By the way, sorry about making you hit on that sales chick, but I couldn't pass up the opportunity. I thought you were going to pick truth," David said.

"Sales chick?" Simon repeated blankly. "Oh. Bethany."

"Bethany? So she's Bethany now? When did she tell you her name? And dude, what about Angelica?" David looked torn between badgering him for more information and teasing him about his supposedly lurid nighttime encounters.

If only he knew.

Simon bit his lip hard. "I—I met Bethany later on. Something happened last night."

David's laughing brown eyes turned curious. His languid steps came to a halt. "OK," he said slowly.

"Angelica took me somewhere last night," Simon admitted nervously, unsure of what he was going to say next. He could imagine David's humorous gaze turning pitying, and a cold feeling crept into his chest. "It was pretty messed up. I think there might have been drugs involved," he said in a rush.

"I don't know what you saw, but I'm sure Angelica could clear it all up," David reassured. His expression was slightly relieved, as if he were waiting for some other confession.

Simon couldn't believe he just lied. Moreover, he couldn't believe that David accepted the story so easily. He felt slightly sick when thinking about Angelica, who couldn't clear up anything. Because she was a vampire. Because she was dead.

Simon found himself nodding woodenly.

It was going to be a long day.

* * *

Bethany sat with her cheek cradled in the palm of her left hand; in her right hand, a black pen drooped in her fingers. Her professor, a squat man with wild facial hair and a horribly thick German accent was lecturing on Kant today. With a sigh, she stared down at her notebook. Written there were the words "Philosophy 101: Kant", underlined twice. 

There was no other writing on the page.

Doodles, however, were plentiful. Wooden stakes dripping with blood. Stick figures with pointy teeth at the wrong end of little arrows. Black flowers of all sorts, shaded in.

"Excuse me," came a whispered voice to her right.

Bethany started in surprise, knocking the notebook on to the ground. It landed with a loud thump; she winced at the sound and turned to the voice. "What's up?" she asked, eyeing her notebook. Could she somehow use her foot to nudge it back?

A slim hand brushed the pages of the notebook, and lifted it up delicately. "Sorry," the girl said with an apologetic shrug. She offered the notebook. Bethany accepted it, shutting it quickly. "I was just wondering if you had an extra pen. Mine ran out of ink," the girl explained, waving her pen in demonstration.

"No problem," Bethany said. She rummaged through her book bag, but only found a stubby pencil. With a shrug, she offered the pen that had been in her had earlier.

"Thanks," the girl said with a bright smile. "I'm Helena."

"Bethany," she said in return.

Helena opened her mouth, as if about to say something when their professor gave the two a dirty look. Helena's mouth quickly snapped shut.

When class was finally dismissed, someone dropped a small folded piece of paper of on her desk. When Bethany looked up, the person had disappeared into the crowd of students heading out the door. With a frown, she hastily shoved the note into her pocket and gathered up her notebooks and slim philosophy volumes.

Her next class was in fifteen minutes.

As she walked across campus, Bethany eased the note out of her pocket, and unfolded it warily. On a piece of paper torn out of a notebook, a sketch of a black dahlia stood starkly against the white paper. To the right of the drawing, there was a question mark.

With a frown, she pivoted and veered sharply to her left, where her tiny blue hatchback was parked.

Bethany didn't make it to the car.

_...to be continued in Chapter 3: Spelling Disaster_

**Author's Notes:** Thanks to Strekoza for the review! This is a shorter chapter, but I hope you like it. The next chapter should be out by the end of the month (I hope).


	3. Spelling Disaster

**Come Softly into the Night**

Chapter 3: Spelling Disaster

When the hand touched Bethany's arm, she tensed. As she glanced down at the crumpled note in her hand, a thousand scenarios flashed in her head. All involved the stake in her book bag. If she could only get to it—

"Oh, I didn't mean to startle you," someone said ruefully.

Bethany turned around; she slipped the picture of dahlia smoothly into her pocket as she did so. A plain girl with light blue eyes stood before her. "Helena, right?" Bethany said in a feigned friendly voice, pushing down her instinctive search for a weapon.

"That's me," Helena said with a smile. She held out a hand, which had a familiar black pen in it. "I just wanted to catch up to you to return this. Thanks again for letting me borrow it,"

"Any time," Bethany replied, relaxing a fraction. She accepted the pen and tucked it behind her ear. With a careful eye, she watched as Helena began to turn and walk in the opposite direction.

Just as Bethany felt her muscles uncoil, Helena hesitated, her eyes darting across the campus grounds as if to make sure there was no one around. There wasn't. "You're Bethany Camden," Helena stated, without sounding even a little unsure.

Bethany felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand at attention. "What's it to you?" she found herself asking warily.

"There's actually something else I've been meaning to give you," Helena said, pulling out what looked to be a business card.

Cautiously, Bethany took the card. The plain black text was printed on thick, expensive paper. On the front of the card was the name "Helena Carmichael". Bethany flipped the card over and felt the blood drain out of her face. Like the front of the card, the back only held two words: Circle Daybreak.

"Witch," Bethany hissed. She recoiled, taking a step back. Why hadn't she though to bring any iron? She felt jittery, exposed. This kind of encounter wasn't supposed to happen in the safety of the daylight hours, when she went about her normal life.

"Human, actually," Helena said wryly.

"Even worse," she proclaimed. With narrowed eyes, Bethany demanded, "Did you send me that note?"

The other girl frowned. "Note?" She shook her head. "I just came to offer you a place at Circle Daybreak. I was supposed to visit you at home, but I couldn't find your current address,"

"Stop right there," Bethany commanded. An emotion she couldn't quite identify welled up in her chest; it felt a lot like anger. "Listen you—you stalker! I'm not interested in playing the Happy Meal in your sick little club,"

Helena's brow furrowed. "That's not it at all. Bethany, you're—"

"Just shut up. Don't talk to me, don't follow me, don't leave me anymore cryptic notes. Human or not, I swear I'll stake you if you even think about finding me again," she said, though perhaps unconvincingly. If only her voice would stop shaking.

Without waiting for a reaction, Bethany pivoted and stalked off in a random direction.

After a few minutes, she turned a corner and rested heavily against the building wall. She tore off her bag, and unzipped it; with a little digging, she found the stake that sat so unhelpfully in her bag and tucked it into the waistband of her jeans. Her hands were trembling; it was stress, she told herself firmly. That accomplished, she grabbed her cell phone and punched in the number of the one person who could help her sort out this mess. "Jon? I need you, Jon."

* * *

Across the city, a man woke up to the sound of his cell phone ringing. Having "Another One Bite's the Dust" as a ring tone had been fun at first, when Russ suggested it, beaming at his own cleverness. It was not so fun at ten o'clock in the morning with his new fiancée tucked against his chest. 

Blindly, Jonathan Alistair grabbed for the phone, and answered with a tired, "Hello?" His voice suddenly perked up. "What happened? Wait—are you sure?"

By the time he hung up, his pants were slipped over his hips one-handedly, and he was working on buttoning up his shirt. "I'll be there as soon as I can," he told the girl on the other end of the phone confidently, clicking the "end" button.

"Who was that?" his fiancée asked sleepily. He stopped for a moment to admire her: the sunlight streamed through the glass balcony doors, lighting her hair a rich chestnut. Against the white sheets, her skin glowed golden.

Leaning over the bed, he pressed his lips softly against hers. "Call room service for some breakfast, love. I have to go back to work."

* * *

Grabbing a Coke from the vending machine, Simon maneuvered through the hungry crowd and headed toward his usual lunch table. Aiden, who apparently came back sometime between homeroom and lunch, sat with one leg casually up on the bench. He was in deep conversation with Sera, who sat across from him; their dark hair blended as they both leaned forward. Though both their faces were freckled and wholesome, Aiden's right ear was pierced three times; his left, two. It was a stark difference to Sera's unadorned face, which was currently distorted into an unhappy frown. 

"—I still say that it's not a good idea," he heard Sera say to her brother. It wasn't an unusual statement for Sera to be making; Simon couldn't think of a single time she actually approved of something Aiden thought was a good idea. When she spotted Simon coming toward them, she quickly turned to greet him. "Hey Simon. No lunch today?"

He found himself smiling back uncomfortably. "I guess I wasn't quite up for the meatloaf," he said. Not able to think of anything else to say, he quietly sat next to Aiden.

Silence reigned, thick and uneasy. Aiden was busy looking bored, while Simon couldn't seem to think of anything at all suitable to talk about; every time he thought he had something, Angelica ended up being part of the story. Just the thought of her name brought back memories of her pretty face, blood staining her lips and dribbling down her chin. Had that been his blood her hers? Did vampires even _have_ blood?

Diagonally from him, Sera shifted. "So how did you English test go?" she finally asked.

Simon looked up when he realized he was being addressed. English test? He furrowed his brow, thinking hard. When did he have an English test?

"What's up, guys?" David cut in before Simon could answer; he snagged himself a seat next to Sera, his tray clattering on the cheap school table. "Hey, did you know that Swakowski's dating a student?" he asked, brown eyes bright with mischief.

Sera rolled her eyes. "That's just a rumor, David."

"Who would date Swakowski?" Aiden scoffed.

Simon felt a rush of relief at the interruption. "Isn't that illegal?" he chimed in. For the first time in twelve hours, he felt something approaching normal.

"Dude, of course it's illegal," David said. "He's a teacher. Plus, he's like, fifty."

"More like twenty-six," Sera corrected.

"Oh? Have you joined the fan club, then?" David asked slyly, happily shoveling the school meatloaf in his mouth as he spoke. Simon grimaced; the rubbery meat looked entirely unappealing.

"He's a teacher!" she exclaimed, looking scandalized. The freckles that dusted her cheeks faded into a pink flush.

"That didn't stop Courtney Saunders," Aiden drawled.

"Not much would stop Courtney Saunders," Simon had to admit. Courtney was a popular girl who seemed to have a different boyfriend every month. Simon didn't really keep track of that sort of thing, but David did—and what David knew, everyone knew, whether they wanted to or not.

"Speaking of unstoppable forces, where's Angelica?" Aiden asked, almost sounding interested.

"She's probably just worn out from staying out so late," David answered, giving Simon an understanding look. This time, the innuendo in his voice was kept to a minimum, though Simon was pretty certain that it was impossible for David to completely eradicate the pure suggestion in his tone.

"Simon?" came Sera's concerned voice.

Feeling the Grimshaws' eyes trained on him, Simon shrugged uncomfortably. "I haven't seen her since last night," he said. His face felt hot; he wondered how they could possibly _not_ know that he was lying? The image of her pale, shocked face flashed in his mind, a wooden stake blooming from her chest. He pushed his Coke away as his stomach clenched. "So are we going to Mid-Ill tonight?" he asked in the most awkward segue ever.

"Want to see Bethany, do you?" David questioned. Obviously, he felt this was safe territory, because he wore a huge grin and reached across the table to give Simon a poke in the shoulder.

Smiling back weakly, he said, "Just wondering." In truth, he wanted more answers from Bethany and Russ—they couldn't just tell him that by the way, vampires and other creatures of the night were real, and have a nice life. Still, he couldn't think of a way to do ask if his friends were hanging around the store.

"Who's Bethany?" Sera asked curiously.

"Oh, you didn't know?" David said, his grin widening. "Angelica's old news; couldn't keep up with our man Simon. Bethany is the chick from Mid-Ill."

"The one who shut you down yesterday?" Aiden asked Simon sardonically. "Didn't know you liked them feisty,"

"Something like that," he replied halfheartedly.

"Stop teasing him, Aiden. That was David's fault," Sera said. David protested automatically, but Sera was already continuing. "Anyway, I can't go to Mid-Ill today, guys," she told them.

"Why not?" David wanted to know.

She set her shoulders and tried to look dignified, but that conspicuous blush was back. "I have to go shopping for a costume for the Halloween dance," she said primly.

"Yeah? Who're you going with?" David asked, perking up.

Sera glanced uncomfortably toward her brother. "Mike Vaughn."

"Does Mom know?" Aiden asked. His posture was lazy as ever, but Simon blinked when he saw Aiden's usually bored green eyes sharpen. Simon had almost forgotten how protective Mrs. Grimshaw was when it came to Sera's dating habits.

"It's just a dance," Sera said quietly.

Aiden turned his gaze away from her in an unconcerned manner, and said to Simon, "Me and David have a thing after school,"

David glanced at the other boy though the fringe of his hair, which flopped over his eyes. "Right, a thing. Sorry, man," he told Simon with a shrug.

Sera gave them both a suspicious look, but didn't say anything. Surprised, Simon turned to look at Aiden, who was mockingly mouthing "Mike Vaughn" to her.

"It's fine," Simon told his friends. "I've got a lot of TV to catch up on, anyway," he said with a faint smile. He felt like throwing up.

* * *

Russell James was bored. 

He sat indolently on the sales counter, legs propped up on the stool below. With a grumble, he flipped through a Wicca magazine for the fifth time. Unfortunately, no new material appeared. Though there were rarely many customers in the daytime, and certainly not any pretty college girls, Halloween was just around the corner and Midnight Illusion should have been busy with people shopping for costume accessories.

But apparently, not on that particular day. The store was noticeably empty; he felt like he hadn't sold anything in hours. Yawning, he stretched out his arms and pulled his legs up to his chest. His eyes drooped, lashes casting a dark shadow on his freckled cheeks.

"Aren't you supposed to be working?" a familiar voice said in a tired, amused tone.

With a startled yelp, Russ jumped up. "Jon!" He exclaimed; his hand carded through his hair in a sheepish gesture. Luckily, there were no customers around to tattle about his negligence. "Hey boss," Russ greeted. "What are you doing back?"

Jon stood at the doorway, looking unusually rumpled and exhausted; his usually neat blond hair looked windblown, and there were dark circles beneath his hazel eyes. Russ noted with raised eyebrows that Bethany was situated under his arm. She looked wary and frustrated, and if it were anyone but Jon holding her, she'd probably look annoyed as well. Russ found himself shifting uncomfortably. What the hell happened? "Is this about that Simon kid?" he had to ask.

The older boy sighed. "Partly. We're calling an emergency meeting."

* * *

David was staring at the clock. It was 2:29 and forty-five seconds. For fifteen seconds, he watched the clock, brown eyes studying the ticking hand intently. 

He hated sitting in those cramped desks for hours; sure he was a city wolf, but he still felt uncomfortable in such a confined space. The final bell was always a relief, like the clicking freedom of unlocked shackles. When it rang, it sounded quite different from the warning bell in the morning. The bell practically sang as he darted out of the classroom, letting his 'shifter instincts guide him through the students that were beginning to crowd the hallways. In record time, he burst out of the front doors, taking all fourteen stairs in one leap.

Rotating his shoulders, he made his way to his car.

In the student parking lot, Aiden was leaning against David's Mustang, the multiple piercings in his ears gleaming in the afternoon light. The taller boy had one arm resting on the roof, the keys held loosely in his hand; he had a cigarette in his free hand.

With a flick of his wrist, Aiden tossed the keys to Daivd, who plucked it deftly from the air. "So," David said, walking around to the driver's side. "What's this 'thing' that we're doing?" he asked.

Aiden flashed one of his rare smiles: quick and sharp, with teeth bared. There was something wicked about that smile—it was almost werewolf-worthy. David felt a jolt of adrenaline pump through him when he saw the smile, an electric tingling down his spine.

He always had a sixth sense when it came to trouble.

"We're going to gather up some materials for a little Samhain spell," Aiden replied, green eyes burning with something David couldn't quite identify.

_...to be continued in Chapter 4: Witchy Women _

**Author's Notes:** My goal is to write a chapter every ten to fifteen days, in case you're wondering. Hopefully, I can keep up with this schedule. Thanks so much for reading!

incarnated-soul: Tenses are my weakness, but I'm glad it hasn't been too distracting. As for WIP, itstands for Work In Progress. And I'll definitely be answering those questions in the next couple of chapters!

zaza: I'm glad you like Bethany and Simon! Mary-Sues are hard to avoid, but I'm glad you think I'm doing all right with Bethany. But Simon is a little clueless, isn't he?

Strekoza: Thanks for your reviews. I hope you got to finish the second chapter, or this chapter wouldn't make much sense, would it?

Li-Young: I really like Russ, too. He definitely has a bigger part in the future!


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